


Gushers

by Legs (InsanityRule)



Series: Nelson Belson's Declassified Junk Food Survival Guide [1]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Post Season 2, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nelson Bighead Bighetti is in over his head, so he calls in an expert to help sort through his mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gushers

**Author's Note:**

> LET THE NELSON BELSON BEGIN.

“Ho boy this isn’t looking good,” Nelson scrolls through his contacts, glances up at the mountain of folders on his desk, and dials before he can change his mind. “Come on come o- Hi, um… look I know this is kind of weird but can you come over to Hooli?” One of the folders falls off and papers scatter across the floor. “I need some advice.”

\--

He’s in the lobby waiting, bouncing on his feet, waiting (And hoping) that he’ll show up.

“Do you need something Mr. Bighetti?”

“What? No, um… Yes? A guest pass.” This will probably be easier than explaining why he’s invited Gavin Belson back onto the Hooli campus. “Yeah, one day probably.”

“Here you are sir. I’m sure your assistant can get anything else you may need.”

‘I have an assistant?’ “Yeah, sure.”

That was probably awkward.

Gavin comes scowling - or maybe that’s just his resting face? - and Nelson hurries to throw him the guest pass and run by the greeter, secretary, security? That guy. He hurries to get him past people because this is probably at least a category four emergency.

“So, welcome back, crap that is probably not what you want to hear from me. Look, thank you man, seriously.”

Honestly he didn’t expect him to actually show up.

“Let’s just get this over with alright? I’m very busy today.”

“Really? But I thought you were fired. Well, I know you were fired. I have your job and-” and Gavin looks like he’ll punch through Nelson’s teeth so he shuts up.

He opens the door to his office and strides over to the pile on his desk. It got bigger in the twenty minutes he was gone. “Crap.”

“You do know this job is one that actually requires you to do things right? It’s not one of those bullshit titles you have, Bag Head.”

“Oh I know, believe me. Last week I got so stressed out I hid under my desk, ate a whole box of Gushers and cried.”

Maybe that’s not something you share with people.

“What? What constitutes a box of Gushers?”

“That’s what you’re going to focus on?” Well that seems fine, he ignored the crying part. Nelson points to a corner where a pile of 36 count boxes are stacked. “Well, one of those ones. It’s not really that many.”

It’s over a pound but that’s not that bad.

“Anyway, so everyone keeps bringing me these folders and contracts and all this… stuff.” He waves a hand over the piles. “I just keep telling that guide guy to tell them I’m meditating.”

“Have you done anything since you started this job?”

“Yeah, well, no… I started my boat class? Right you mean job related. Um… no, not really. I have no idea what most of this even does.”

Gavin nods. Here it is, the part where he reveals he’s not a bad guy and helps-

 

“Why would I help you?”

Well crap.

“Um…” He did not plan for this possibility. He didn’t plan at all, he just called the one person he knows that actually knows all this stuff. “It’s your company? Don’t you have money here still or… something?”

“Well, based on what I’ve seen today that’s not going to last. I’ll sell my shares, make a fortune, and slowly watch Hooli burn itself out because it hired a useless, incompetent, fool as its new CEO.” Nelson starts backing up and he trips over the folder that fell, scattering the papers and tearing a few. “I made you, Bag Head. You’d still be bumbling down in the programming department, or working for Pied Piper,” he didn’t think anyone could make that sound like a swear, “or fired. But this… this will be satisfying, knowing the reason Hooli will fail will be all on your… what the hell are you doing?”

Crap he’s crying. Nelson wipes his face. “Great, sure… fine.” He crawls over to the Gushers and grabs a box, then he knee walks over to his desk, pushes the chair away, and settles under the center of the desk. He can still be seen because this stupid desk is basically a glorified table, but the artsy part in the center covers him up a little. “The pass is good all day, so… why not mess up some bathrooms on your way out. Bash up some servers.”

He starts eating the Gushers. The green ones have always been his favorite. He saves them from the pack and opens the next. Might as well have one good thing-

Gavin, it must be Gavin because those weird foot glove shoes aren’t worn by anyone else around here, sits at his desk. And he’s not leaving? “Um, Gavin?”

“Most of these are rewrites on the old contract. They just need your signature.”

“Oh,” he’s handed a pen and the pile of contracts. Easy enough, he’s sure the legal department handled everything. Do they handle this kind of thing? He shrugs and starts signing. “There’s an audit too.”

“An, ah, it’s just the quarterly self-audit. Hooli has internal checking systems-”

“The finances people called me and said it was from the IRS. Something about, invalidating or… I don’t know I think I blocked it out.”

“Most of the work is for accounting. They’ll examine taxes and financial statements. Your style of living to ensure you’re not stealing from the company,” he could be in trouble? “receipts, expenses, a lot of-”

He’d like to lie to himself and say he’s not crying more, he was just stopping since Gavin apparently decided to stay and help.

“What the the hell are you crying about now?” Gavin’s leaning on the desk and looking right at him.

“I don’t know what any of that means.” He has no idea how to run a company. “I didn’t have any responsibilities before! I just had titles and… and a boat I can’t even pilot.”

“Sail.”

“Damn it.” He rips into another packet of Gushers. “I don’t want to get fired. I’ll have to find another job and probably go live with my parents. And they’ll tell me, _Nelson you’re bad with money_ , and _why don’t you finish college_ , and your _cousin already has tenure_ or whatever it’s ca…” Gavin’s handing him a clipboard and a pen. “What?”

“This is from accounts receivable. Sign at the bottom.”

“What?”

Gavin sighs. “Because you need to sign off that their information is correct. It is, by the way, not that you would know.”

He signs off on the papers and hands them back. “Why are you helping me?”

“I built this company from the ground up. And I guess seeing it burn just because of incompetence would be a waste. Just accept charity when it’s presented to you Bag Head.”

“Um, Bighead, but uh… People have been calling me Nelson now. Which is my name. I think it might be good luck.”

“What?”

“Oh, so um… Nelson.” He points to himself. “Belson.” He points to Gavin. “It rhymes.”

“That is completely idiotic,” Gavin shakes his head.

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He crawls out from under the desk and leans on the edge. “So uh… what the hell is accounts receivable?”


End file.
